


arguments with the universe

by jennycaakes



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Happy Ending, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 21:39:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3356222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennycaakes/pseuds/jennycaakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was sung in nursery rhymes, on Capitol television, and taught in their schools: To touch a soulmate is to see, to kiss them is to be set free. But Gale would rather deny that Madge Undersee was his soulmate altogether than embrace the sight that came with her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	arguments with the universe

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentine's Day! This is loosely based on a soulmate post that said you have to touch your soulmate to see colors. I hope you enjoy it!

It had been drilled into their heads since they were little. _To touch a soulmate is to see, to kiss them is to be set free_. They heard it in childhood rhymes, it was taught in school, girls teased each other with the words again and again. Gale never thought much of it, and when he did he thought it was ridiculous. Black and white and gray was the only thing he’d ever seen, and once he saw nothing after brushing hands with Katniss one afternoon hunting, he never expected to. District 12 wasn’t all that big, his soulmate chances were slim. And honestly, he didn’t care.

In a way, it was nice not to see color. He was sure people somewhere weren’t matching and looked ridiculous in their clothes, but at least Posy couldn’t whine about wanting a different colored dress. She didn’t know what color she had in the first place. There was no fretting about anything like that, which was a blessing. But at times in the woods Gale would look toward the sky and long to see the color blue, run his hands over the grass and wonder what green looked like. The flowers must’ve been beautiful, the trees during fall when the leaves shifted grays slightly and wilted away. It was then that he wanted to see color.

But again, his chances were slim. He tried not to dwell on it.

In fact, Gale tried his hardest _not_ to think about it. Every once in a while it would creep back into his thoughts but he was getting older and with his job at the mines up ahead he felt his odds getting slimmer. He didn’t have time to date currently (trips to the slag heap with girls from school was about as close as he got – and none of them had resulted in color) and wasn’t _going_ to have time when he started working. So, more often than nothing, color was an afterthought.

“Imagine meeting your soulmate during the Hunger Games,” Rory had said one night as they watched an old replay, another reminder that Gale’s soulmate could be in an entirely different district. “That would _suck_. It’d be like, ‘hey we’re meant to be together. Look at the color of the sky! Whoops, now I’m dead.’”

“ _Rory_ ,” Gale hissed. “That’s not something to _joke_ about for Christ’s sake.”

After Rory had discovered that Prim was his soulmate and could see color he’d been talking about soulmates _a lot_. It drove Gale up the freaking wall. “Prim won’t shut up either,” Katniss said as they picked strawberries from the bush. It was Sunday, meaning they needed to take a basket to the mayor. “I mean, I guess I’m happy for her. She likes to tell me all about the Capitol outfits they show on TV, how they all look ridiculous.”

Gale tried smiling then but it came out like a grimace.

The two of them went to the mayor’s house like every other Sunday. The Reaping was in a few weeks, another Hunger Game coming to take away two more innocent kids from District 12. Gale’s last Reaping. Katniss knocked on the back door and Gale shifted uneasily on his feet. He never liked trading with the mayor. The two of them certainly made a pretty penny doing it, but it always made him nervous. There were so many things that could go wrong, even in a place as lenient as District 12.

Madge Undersee was the one who opened the door, her hair tied up in a horribly messy bun with light strands of gray (blonde, maybe? Very light brown?) hair framed her face. She smiled at the two of them and reached inside, pulling out the coins she normally traded. “How are you two today?” she asked, her usual politeness made Gale frown for _literally_ no reason. There was more than one reason he didn’t like the mayor’s house. Gale just didn’t like the mayor’s daughter.

Madge was kind. He knew that. He hadn’t any reason to dislike her for who she was. Her voice was soft and sweet, her smile gentle. But she was _the mayor’s daughter_. She had a full stomach every night when she went to bed, a nice warm place to sleep, hot water running through her pipes, air conditioning in the summer and heat in the winter, the list was endless. And it was _that_ , that he hated about her. Which was unfair, and Katniss pointed it out often, but not something he could look past.

“It’s hot,” Katniss said with a bit of a smile. “But the breeze is nice.”

“It is,” Madge agreed. “I was out earlier in the garden.” She handed the coins over to Gale. “Here you—”

Gale didn’t know why he and Madge had never brushed hands before. They traded all the time. Maybe it was because Gale usually had the basket and you didn’t need to touch to pass them over. But when her fingers brushed his skin the world erupted around him. He snatched the coins from her hand as it faded, it faded, and Madge looked up and around before it was gone. _Color_ , Gale thought. Nothing else could’ve been so powerful. So _crisp_. He hadn’t even time to process it before the gray returned.

Katniss was staring at them. Madge let out a short breath. “Did you… did you see that?” she asked.

“See what?” Katniss asked, her eyebrows furrowed. She turned her attention to Gale. “Did you see something?”

The knowledge of what color meant came as an afterthought. _Soulmate_. He blinked hard and set his jaw. “I didn’t see anything,” he grit out. He watched Madge’s face fall but swallowed his decision. No. _No_. The mayor’s daughter was absolutely _not_ his soulmate. Never, in a thousand years, in a million years, in _absolutely forever_ was that possible. He’d rather be on a grayscale for the rest of his life than accept that. “See you next week.”

Madge accepted the basket of strawberries from Katniss but her eyes stayed trained on Gale as he turned and forced his way down the steps of the porch. “Thank you,” she whispered, and Katniss nodded before following her friend.

**

Was it possible for your soulmate to have a soulmate other than you? Oh, God, it had been incredible. _Grass is green_. One of the first things Madge had learned when she was young was that green was the color of the grass. Now she knew what exactly that was. And blue, the sky had been blue. Just for a moment. One fleeting moment before Gale had pulled his hand away. And then it was gone. She didn’t know what color to put to his skin, his shirt, the strawberries. His eyes were still gray, though. Nearly silver. Piercing.

But he hadn’t seen a thing? Madge gnawed on her bottom lip and tried to decipher what it meant. She’d considered asking her mother, or maybe the maid, but Madge decided against it. She had to process it on her own. Had to wait and see if it was _real_. She had to touch him again, even if it was in the smallest of ways.

The next day at school she tracked him down. Madge was no hunter like he was but finding Gale’s locker was easy enough. “Gale,” she called out, not wanting to startle him. Seeing color had knocked her breathless, and maybe if something went wrong and he _could_ see color she didn’t want to startle him. He turned his head and visibly stiffened when he saw her – not a good sign, but at least he didn’t turn away. “Hey.” She stopped about a foot in front of him, ignoring the hustle and bustle of the school around them. “I, um,” Madge should’ve though. “I tutor Rory in history,” she said.

He narrowed his gaze at her. “Okay…?”

“I… might need to keep him a little later tonight. Than usual. Longer. He has, um, a test. Coming up.”

Gale scowled at her. “What’s your point?”

“I… I know you walk home together.” Madge looked around awkwardly. “I just wanted to let you know.” Gale said nothing, his eyes still hard on her. Even in grayscale they were piercing. Madge wondered why she came here. Gale clearly didn’t see color the other day. There was no logical way for her to be his soulmate, even if _she_ was _his_. He _hated_ her! Her eyes began to burn. She shifted her books awkwardly against her chest. “I should go.” She turned and as she went ran smack dab into another person.

“Watch where you’re going,” the girl hissed before marching off.

All of Madge’s books were on the ground, papers scattering through the hall. Instantly she dropped to her knees and started scooping everything in her direction, feeling her face hot now. This was just _humiliating_. But soon enough Gale lowered himself down too, helping her collect her things without a word. And then their hands brushed again.

His fingers lingered against hers this time. He didn’t recoil like before and Madge had a moment to process everything that was happening. It was as though she could _feel_ the colors that emerged. First her eyes studied Gale, the color of his drab uniform, the warmth of his skin, before she tilted her head and tried to see something else. The school hallways weren’t as colorful as her backyard but there were some colors on some posters she hadn’t seen before. Red, maybe, or purple. She didn’t know which was which.

Finally Gale pulled his hand away, and because they’d been touching for more amount of time the color stayed just a tad bit longer. And then it faded back to gray right before her eyes.

Madge turned back to him and found Gale piling her papers for her. “Gale,” she started, wincing at the way her voice wavered. He grunted in response. “Um…” she breathed deeply to stop the rapid beating of her heart. “Did you… did you just see color?”

He looked up at her slowly. His answer was firm. “No.” She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth as he cocked one of his eyebrows. “Did _you_ just see color?”

The disbelief on his face, the confusion, it made her chest hurt. She found herself blinking hard and snatching the papers from him without saying anything. She stood without answering his question and marched off before she could cry.

**

Gale couldn’t focus all day. He didn’t know all of the colors yet but he knew Madge’s eyes were dark blue, a different shade of the sky he’d seen the other day. And he didn’t like the feeling in his chest when they filled with tears in front of him. Gale couldn’t describe what she looked like, not entirely, but seeing Madge in color was something he could _feel_. She was _light_. She was like spring. The first fall of winter before the snow turned gray. A warm summer breeze.

But she couldn’t be his soulmate.

He couldn’t stand her. Gale absolutely could not stand her. She represented literally everything he opposed. The government—the Capitol. It wasn’t logical and it didn’t make any sense. _Love doesn’t make sense_ , he could hear his mother saying. _Roll with it, Sweetheart_. But he couldn’t. He really couldn’t.

But at the same time, he craved the color. _To touch a soulmate is to see, to kiss them is to be set free_. The rhyme bounced around his skull. If Gale kissed her then the color would last. It would break whatever ass-backwards soulmate rules and he could continue on his merry way, seeing color while happily avoiding Madge Undersee. Only the problem was they _did not_ get along, and if he was going to keep pretending he didn’t see color when they touched then he has absolutely no reason to press his lips to hers. If Madge knew Gale saw color she’d want to explore that. Get to know him. Be _friends_.

But Gale didn’t want that. He didn’t want her to be his soulmate. There were plenty of people in the world who never saw color, who lived their lives in grayscale with people they loved regardless. He could kiss her, see color, and then find a girl to love. It could work out, somehow. He just needed to figure out how. Because if he was being honest, there was no way Gale could resign back to a life without color now that he’d had his taste of it.

Later that day after running through nearly every scenario in his head, Gale decided to just do it. Kiss her. In the end he could say something like _I wanted to see what you saw_ and tell her it didn’t work. One peck on the lips was really all that was needed, according to most people. But when Gale rounded the corner to her locker he found Madge with tears in her eyes, talking to Peeta Mellark. He flattened himself against the wall and strained to listen to what she was saying as she sniffled.

“Is that possible?” she asked. “For my soulmate to have a soulmate that isn’t _me_?” Peeta placed his hands on her shoulders but Madge nudged him aside. “That isn’t fair, Peeta.”

“I know,” Peeta murmured back. “I know, Madge.” She wiped at her tears and shook her head. “Are you sure you really saw color?” he asked.

She scoffed and sniffled again. “That’s not something I can make up, Peet.”

He sighed, rubbing at his forehead. “Maybe you have more than one soulmate? I don’t—I don’t know, Madge.”

Guilt rolled through Gale in waves. It felt like the color of her eyes. He hadn’t anticipated Madge to be so worked up about his denial of sight, but he hadn’t really thought about it either. Most people did spend a large amount of their life looking for their soulmate, and he’d more or less told her that she wasn’t his. He swallowed thickly and rested his head against the wall, listening as Madge packed her things saying she was going to be late for her study session.

**

Two weeks later and Gale hadn’t told anyone about Madge. And two weeks later he had yet to touch her again. He clung to the memory of color desperately, trying to find a reason to brush up against her and get another glimpse. But she wouldn’t look at him, and during trades she was particularly careful not to touch him.

And then the Reaping came.

When Prim’s name was called he was unprepared for what he should have expected. Katniss volunteered, her voice shaking yet somehow strong as she marched out to protect her sister. Gale did the only thing he could, going into the crowd and scooping up Prim who was screaming hysterically. When Peeta Mellark was called there was a brief moment that Gale considered volunteering. He and Katniss may not have been soulmates, thus any idea of a romantic relationship between then had been squashed years ago, but he loved her fiercely and wanted to protect her more than anything. The right move was to hold his tongue, and he knew that later.

Katniss and Peeta were forced to shake hands on stage, like always, and the look that crossed both of their faces made Gale pause. He knew that look, the confusion and overwhelming shock. Especially in the midst of fear, the two of them never should’ve shared this look. _Soulmates_.

Gale went through the motions afterwards, following Prim and Mrs. Everdeen to the Justice Hall, making sure Katniss knew how to fight and how to be strong. It wasn’t until after did he see Madge. After Katniss was on the train. After the Reaping was over.

She was sitting on the steps of the Justice Hall with her head in her hands. Her shoulders rose and fell slowly as though she was commanding herself to breathe. In and out. In and out. Before he realized what was happening he sat beside her.

“You gave her your pin,” he said. She startled at the sound of his voice and he couldn’t blame her, especially considering she’d been trying to avoid him. “I saw it.”

Madge wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and nodded. “Yep.” She scooted a little bit away from him, just far enough that their arms couldn’t brush. They had argued this morning. _You won’t be going to the Capitol_. It was built up frustration about the way the Games were rigged as well as the fact he was still in grayscale. Anger toward her, even if it was slightly misdirected. “My chances were higher than Prim’s,” Madge told him. “I’d rather they had called my name than hers.” There was bite to her voice as she shifted to stand. “But you were right. I’m not going to the Capitol.”

“Wait—” he reached out and grabbed her wrist, hardly even thinking about color at this point. Still the world eased into bright blues and deep greens around them with their touch. Madge tried to yank her wrist from him but he pulled her toward him. “Wait,” he said again, his grip still tight. Madge’s eyes were burning and she finally got him to let go. “I didn’t mean that earlier.”

“Yes you _did_ ,” she hissed. She took big steps away from him, and while Gale was clinging to the color it looked like Madge was trying to make it go away faster. “You mean _every_ foul thing you say to me!” Her voice was rising as their worlds slipped back into gray. “Just stay away from me,” Madge snapped. She crossed her arms over her chest and marched away from him, and with it he felt his chance of sight disappearing as well.

**

The next time he saw Madge Undersee she was in The Hob. _Seriously_. She wasn’t wearing any of her pretty dresses and she had a hood over her head to hide her hair for those who _could_ see color ( _blonde,_ Gale had learned later thanks to Rory, _she was blonde. Golden like the sun_.) They’d only accidentally brushed but his world erupted into browns and greens and grays, each more vivid than the last. They’d both spun until they found each other.

“Undersee?” he rasped. “What the fuck are you doing here?” Her lips were parted in surprise and she couldn’t even speak. Instead she lifted a small jar of coins. _For Katniss_ , he thought. “Here.” He guided her through the twists and turns of The Hob until they reached Sae and Madge handed over her coins. After the donation Gale guided her _out_ of the building entirely. “It’s too dangerous here for you,” he told her, his voice cold and hard.

“Isn’t that just more of a reason to let me come?” she returned. “Maybe something bad’ll happen to me. You’d probably like that.”

“Will you get over yourself?” he growled. “What’s your _problem_ anyway, huh?”

Madge held his gaze for a moment before she pressed forward. Before he knew what was happening her hands were on his cheeks and she was kissing him, _she_ was kissing _him_. It was forceful, angry, not like the first kiss two soulmates share should ever be, but it made his body hum. His hands ended up tangled in her hair, his eyes closed to savor the unexpected warmth of her lips and shut out all the colors that were flooding his vision. And then she pulled away.

Gale’s hands were still in her hair so she didn’t get very far, but she was breathing heavily. She blinked a few times before her eyebrows came together. She took a step backwards. “You _can_ see,” she whispered. Gale blinked hard as his hands fell to his sides. It was written all over his face, the surprise and relief, the way his lips had parted. “You _can_ see color, can’t you?”

“Madge—” he tried, but she was many steps away from him now.

“You _lied_ to me?” the disbelief in her voice was palpable. Even in a world of oranges and reds now he couldn’t tear his gaze away from her. Betrayal. It was clear as day. “You hate me so much that you _lied_ to me about seeing color? You didn’t want me as your soulmate _that badly_?” He opened his mouth to possibly explain but she wasn’t having it. “I don’t—I don’t want to hear anything you have to say to me.”

“Madge, just _wait_ a minute,” but she was shaking head, still stepping backwards. Madge reached up and wiped at her lips as though she could take the kiss back entirely.

“Well now you’ve got your sight,” she bit out. “I hope you enjoy it.” Madge turned on her heel and sprinted away from him. The world was swimming with color, blues and greens, oranges and browns, but his eyes were on the blonde who left him in the street.

**

She wanted to be happy. Madge could finally go through her closet and decide if she liked any of the clothes her father had purchased for her. She could get rid of the one green ribbon she occasionally wore in her hair because she mistook it for the pink one. She could finally see the color of her eyes, deep and dark blue like an endless void. She could _see_. But Madge wasn’t happy. She felt like her heart had been ripped out of her chest.

It wasn’t like she was in love with Gale Hawthorne. Was he good looking? Absolutely, yes. Did he have some noble traits? Certainly. He was brave and fiercely determined. He cared about his family endlessly. He stood up for what he believed was right. But did that stop the aching pain? No.

He’d seen color the whole time. Every time their hands brushed – during the trade and in the hallway at school and on the steps of the Justice Hall – he’d seen it all. But he hated her so terribly much that he wouldn’t even acknowledge it. And that hurt more than anything. He’d denied the literal laws of the universe because he couldn’t stand her. It made her feel less than okay.

To make herself feel better Madge played the piano – the keys were still black and white but it was though she could feel different shades of different colors in the songs she played. Madge also went in the garden, studied the colors of her flowers. She watched the Games, her two friends fighting for their lives. She interviewed with the Capitol cameramen that wanted her insight. She smiled because once her mother had told her if she smiled enough she would be happy. It didn’t work much.

The day after Katniss and Peeta were declared the winners of the Hunger Games was a Sunday. There was a crisp knock on Madge’s backdoor – a knock that she knew belonged to Gale Hawthorne. Gathering herself bravely Madge went to answer it. She squared her shoulders and tilted her chin back when looking up at him. In his hands was a basket of strawberries, filled to the top.

“We’re not buying today,” she told him. He lifted his eyebrows slightly and Madge went to shut the door when he stuck his boot in the way. “Gale,” she nearly whined, trying to get him out of the way.

“Can I at least explain?” he growled. His voice wavered for a moment. “Please?”

**

They ended up on her back porch with the basket of strawberries between them. Every now and then she’d snatch one, and every now and then pink juice would dribble down her chin as she bit into the fruit.

“I panicked. What did you expect me to do?” he asked. “It’s not like we’re friends.”

“We could be,” she told him. “We’re supposed to be _more_ than that.” Gale wrinkled his nose and looked away from her, toward the many multi-colored flowers in her garden. “I know you don’t like me,” Madge went on. “You see me as this rich little girl who just spends her daddy’s money like it doesn’t mean a thing.” He let out a short breath. “I didn’t ask for this life, Gale. I didn’t ask to be forced to stand idly by as Capitol citizens celebrate the death of children.” Finally he looked back to her. “Sure, I get to eat three meals a day. And I have hot showers in the morning. But if I make one wrong move, _ever_ , then things get ugly fast.”

“You could use your power,” he grit out.

“I’m seventeen,” she reminded him. “It’s hard enough for me to get Daddy to keep the fence off.” Gale’s eyebrows collided together. “Yeah, that’s me. You’re welcome.” Gale exhaled again, sinking backwards onto his elbows. “You act like because I live in the mayor’s house that I enjoy all the… the _shit_ we have to deal with?”

“You’re complacent,” Gale murmured.

“I don’t have a choice.” There was a reason Madge’s mother was perpetually on bed rest with horrifying migraines, and it wasn’t due to the fact that she lost her sister all those years ago. The Capitol does whatever they want to make their people complacent. “There are so many things I want to change about this place.” Gale listened as her voice dipped into a whisper, a soft yellow of the morning sun. Madge fiddled with the strawberry in her hands, staining the tips of her fingers. “You hate me for things I can’t control.” Her face was pinched in sadness. “You don’t even _know_ me.”

His voice was raw, “I made a mistake.” Madge tilted her head to look at him. How often was it that Gale Hawthorne would admit when he was wrong? “I made a mistake and I want to make it up to you.”

Madge picked at the leaves atop the strawberry. “What changed your mind?” she asked. “To have the sight?”

“No.” Gale shook his head. “No, you gave Katniss your pin.” She frowned and he shrugged. “And then you were in the Hob. And I—I realized that you’re right. I don’t know you.” He might’ve also gotten a little sick of listening to Rory yammer on and on about Prim. There was some truth to the universe dishing out soulmates. When two people were meant to be together, they needed to at least give it a chance. He couldn’t ignore the emptiness in his stomach after she walked away from the Hob. “I want to,” Gale told her. “I want to know you.”

Madge looked away from him and lifted the strawberry in her hands to take a bite. She threw the stem in the grass. While licking her lips, “It’s not that easy.”

“I know.” He shifted on his side to look at her. “I know I hurt you.” She wouldn’t look at him. “I know that soulmates fight. Especially the great ones. I want to make it up to you, though. Even if it takes time.” Finally Madge turned her head. “This doesn’t—Madge, this doesn’t make sense to me. You and me… it isn’t logical. But I can’t exactly argue with the universe. I don’t even know why I tried.”

Madge sighed and nodded. “Okay.” Gale felt his own surprise in his stomach. “We can go to the train station together when Katniss and Peeta get back. Greet them together.” He leaned forward off of his elbows and scooted toward her, grabbing her hand. Somehow everything felt a little more vivid. “We can start there?”

“Better than not starting at all,” Gale nodded in agreement. He looked toward the basket between them. “The strawberries are on the house,” he told her. “I know they’re your favorite.” Madge opened her mouth to protest, Gale deserved the money, but he shook his head. “Consider it part of the apology.”

By the time Gale left they hadn’t kissed again, and they wouldn’t for at least a few more weeks. But in time they grew together as all soulmates did. He learned the different smiles Madge wore, which were fake and which were real. She learned the feel of his hands, fingertips callused from snares and palms callused from the pickaxe. And in time they forgot all about their rocky start – because it wasn’t the start that mattered. It wasn’t the sight that mattered either. What mattered was the way Gale felt his heart race when she kissed his neck, what mattered was the way she laughed when Gale told her about his day. 

Gale couldn’t control fate. He couldn’t choose his soulmate. But with Madge by his side, her bright blue eyes twinkling as she spoke with him, her perfectly pink lips curled into the sweetest smile he'd ever seen, it made him feel like he would’ve chosen her after all.


End file.
